I stood up and threw myself against James’s chest. He grabbed me with both hands and held me in a firm grip. We looked at each other for a few seconds until I hid behind him. My cheek grazed his bare, slightly moist back, which gave off a seductive and reassuring scent.
“Get in the car,” he commanded.
I acquiesced without protesting. His arm was shaking, a sign that the situation was more tense than expected.
I got in the car, leaving the door ajar. I wanted to hear what they were saying.
“We’ll talk to Dad about it, let’s see what he thinks,” yelped Tom, turning to James.
“Hunter, if I find out that you’re fucking with me, I won’t let you or her get away with it,” Austin threatened, jerking his head at me. “Let’s go, Tom. Look at the state he’s in. I feel bad.”
They walked away, continuing to glare at us as I realized that I was trembling.
When James got in the car, we stared at Austin’s SUV, then at the dark neighborhood.
“James, who does the gun belong to?”
He dropped his head into his hands.
“Taylor . . . her dad.”
“And they killed someone with that gun, didn’t they?”
James didn’t answer, and that was enough for me to understand what had happened. Clearly he had killed someone for James using Taylor’s dad’s gun.
“Who’d they kill with that gun?”
I watched him throw his head back and plop it on the headrest as he stared at the roof.
“From what I heard tonight, I have something else to be afraid of.”
His usually deep and firm voice seemed to tremble slightly in fear.
“What are you talking about, James?”
“They didn’t kill him.”
“Who?”
At that point a light bulb seemed to go off in his head because his eyes widened, imbued with angst, and he punched the steering wheel. The vein sweeping down his neck swelled.
“They didn’t fucking do it,” he yelled.
“Let’s go inside. You’re too shaken up to drive,” I recommended, getting out of the car. I watched him rub his cheek several times. He was upset.
“What about your mom?”
“She’s on vacation with a friend. I’m alone.”
“Fuck. And I even warned you!” he attacked me angrily.
My first impulse was to tell him to go to hell, but I decided to count to ten. Now wasn’t the time to act childish. I had to swallow my pride. After all, he’d saved my ass.
“Please,” I insisted firmly.
James looked at me with his usual arrogant air for a moment, then, to my shock, he just nodded.
“I’m guessing that calling the police is out of the question?” I said as we got to the front door.
